


Defeat

by thatmasquedgirl



Series: Little Talks [20]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drama, Gen, Inspired by a prompt, One Shot, POV Sara Lance, Post Episode: s02e16 Suicide Squad, Post Sara Lance/Oliver Queen, implied olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmasquedgirl/pseuds/thatmasquedgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  "Why won't you believe me?"<br/>The weapons that deal the most damage don’t leave scars.</p><p>Reading in the order of "The Way We Talk" series is highly recommended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, this one-shot. I have absolutely no opinions on this because I don't really like it, honestly, but I think it needed to be done because of what I did in the next one. Anyhow, thanks for reading, and if you're feeling generous enough to ease a writer's insecurities, a comment would be most appreciated. Even if you want to tell me how bad I messed up. :D

She watches his face flicker through multiple emotions before disbelief finally wears through, and he makes the obvious conclusion from her words:  "You're breaking up with me."  It isn't a question, and she can hear the hurt and betrayal in that phrase.

Sara sighs, long since regretting her decision.  It's hurting him, yes, but nowhere near as much as it her.  She desperately wants to hang onto him because he's all she knows—all that's  _real_ —anymore, but she still knows that letting him go is the right decision.  Sara is a desperate fighter who never admits defeat, but this time, she has to raise the white flag.  "Yeah," she agrees, "I am."  Her throat constricts, and she can't force anything else out—not without crying, and Sara does  _not_  cry.  Not anymore.

Oliver smiles in disbelief, like this is all a huge joke, before he sobers when he realizes that this is real.  It finally falls when he asks, "Do I get to know  _why_ , at least?"

Why is an interesting reason.  Sara never thought she'd see the day when she'd end things with Oliver Queen over something he  _hasn't_  done, and it's hard for her to voice it without sounding like a lovesick teenager—even to herself.  Finally, though, she takes a deep breath and says, "Because you're not in love with me anymore."  He opens his mouth to say something, but she holds a hand up.  "I know you can't see it yet, but  _I_  do, and I'm not going to get in the way.  She's too good for that, Ollie."

"Sara..." he says, drawing the word out in a way that only he can.  "Sara, I  _swear_  to you, I'm not deceiving you."

"I know," she replies tersely.  "I know you don't  _think_  you are.  That's okay, though.  I  _like_  her, Ollie.  She's good for you—but you just don't know it yet.  But the point is, I'm not going to get in the way of someone who loves you  _that_  much—enough to watch you be with me and stand by you anyway."

He looks like he's in absolute anguish, the same expression he had after the long overdue conversation with Laurel at that awkward family dinner.  "Sara, I  _swear_  to you, I'm  _not_  cheating on you," he says, and she knows his tone is sincere.  "I know I screwed things up with Laurel.  I did.  And I admit that now.  But I've learned my lesson."  He sighs, turning away from her for a moment before turning back.  "I like that I don't have to lie to you.  I like that we don't have to discuss the island.  I think that we can make this work."  He sighs, his face showing his absolute frustration with her.  "Why won't you believe me?"

Sara laughs lightly at the situation because he probably doesn't notice the fact that he says he likes things about their relationship—not that he  _loves_  her.  She then sighs heavily because he's not.  _Listening_.  To her.  " _Oliver_ ," she says sharply, catching his attention for probably the first time in the conversation.  She puts her hands on his shoulders and he looks at her— _really_  looks at her, his eyes boring into hers.  "I  _know_.  I never accused you of cheating—because you're not.  I know that, alright?  But I'm not  _blind_ , and I can see the way you  _look_  at her— _and_  the way she looks at  _you_."  She sighs deeply, bracing herself to say the most difficult words she's ever uttered.  "And, you know what?  She's good for you.  Amazing, even.  I like her, I trust her, and if there was  _anyone_  I'd let steal you away from me, it would be her.  But she's not going to do that—because, unlike most of the girls you've dated, she has  _morals_ —and I'm not going to give her the opportunity.  I'm  _letting you go_."

A tear leaks out of the corner of her eye without her permission, and she wipes it away angrily.  "And it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do," she whispers quietly, already walking away from him.

And it's true; Sara has lost so much, and so little is familiar to her anymore.  But she can't watch this unfold, day after day, choking on the sexual tension in the air and pretending that everything is fine.  Because it isn't.  Even as he calls her name behind her, follows her out of the lair, she ignores him.  She can't  _do_  this anymore.  Instead, Sara is doing the one thing she said she'd never do:  she's throwing in the towel.  She's giving up, she's calling it quits.  She will  _not_  vie for his attention anymore because she doesn't fight losing battles.

Deep down inside, she knows that if she does compete, she'll most certainly lose against the likes of Felicity Smoak.


End file.
